Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sweden and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Gong to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Aaron Thompson,
Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Eden Ahbez,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Swans,
Black Pus,
Simply Red,
Agent Orange,
Joyce Sims,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Blackbyrds,
Althea and Donna,
Barclay James Harvest,
Au Pairs,
Visage,
The Cramps,
Thee Headcoats,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
Rufus Thomas,
Boz Scaggs,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moby Grape,
Bronski Beat,
Aural Exciters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nico,
The Cowsills,
Funkadelic,
Minutemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
R.M.O.,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suicide,
Groovy Waters,
the Association,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Doors,
Ultravox,
Dead Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Anakelly,
Black Flag,
Niagra,
The Smoke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
Sex Pistols,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
K-Klass,
Bill Near,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.